You Gave Love A Bad Name
by Alrik Stark
Summary: Antonio accepts to take a visit to Arthur's home, thinking the meeting was actually important but leads to something else.
1. Deceiving Meeting

**England, a bit OC I believe, sorry for that. Just how I think he'd act through all this xD;; This is merely a fanfic I did for a friend so the ending is a bit rushed. There will probably be other pairings once this is worked on, too, a bit of Spamano and RusAme.**

The ticking – the ticking was about to drive the man to insanity. Other than the clock, it was dead – neither dared talking nor was there even glance to the other sitting in front of them, the atmosphere filled with nothing but suffocating tension. Soon, tanned fingers ran along the glass held tightly between his hands, causing a startling squeaking sound to ring out, sounding like someone had just shot a canon to how loud it appeared. His fingers instantly stopped after that – the clock on a solo once again. Not only was the clock getting to him, but so was the reason he was sitting on some oddly printed chair – that had to be the least comfortable one there – in the one house he never wished to enter alone. The only reason he ever agreed to accepting the suspicious invitation was because he was sure the loudmouthed American would be roaming around the house of this mans. Apparently he had to speak to him about something important as well.

It had to have been hours that have passed by; his prediction shot down when finally pulling his head up from the unappealing tea and eyes shifting to the clock. The hands only told him a mere twenty minutes have passed since he had first sat down with the cup of tea. Was this some sort of trap? Or an attempt to tear down his nation's economy and ruin him? All of the unknowns were causing paranoia, slowly starting to eat at him. When would he start talking? Surely he knew that if he let words spill out first what his question would be, so why not just explain things to him now?

"Remember our pirate days?"

The sudden speech startled him, small drops of tea jumping out the side of the cup. Not only was it a start, the question he asked – it was a shock. The man was slouched over, once staring at the clock; his green eyes soon abruptly looked to the male across the table. He searched his face for some sort of reasoning for that, any type of feeling, instead he was met with a male – sitting in the chair with his back straightened and legs crossed, holding a plate on his knee with one hand and a cup of his own tea with the other, his own green eyes staring blankly ahead, almost as though he was staring at an empty chair rather than another person – one of which he had invited to his home.

The pirate days – how could he forget such a time that was? – out on the seas for months, searching the world in hopes of exploring new lands, along with the occasion of bumping into unwanted company. Of course that company was nonetheless that man – staring at him with such a deadened expression. He would often have to return home early, having been beaten so badly he could not even think of moving on forwards, not only that, he was often taken – only horrors happened then. He had scars and memories to prove of told scenes, not that he would ever want to relive those times. They were all just a part of his history.

Choking back a stuttering breath, his brows furrowed together, grip tightening on the cup. "Si," He grumbled, "What of it?" What the hell was he thinking, what was passing through that mind of his?  
The blond-haired man leaned forwards, carefully placing the plate – along with the cup, down onto the wooden table top before sitting back up, placing his hands over each other on his lap, giving that dead stare once more – staring long and hard. "Weren't those days something?" Lips slowly curled up into a smug and concerning smile, an odd gleam in his eyes.

Shit.

Something was clearly planned now, the invitation was of no importance, and it was just an act to get him into that house alone with the blond man. Grinding his teeth harshly, his eyes narrowed down, his face grim and dreading what was to come rather than his normal carefree and careless appearance. The Spanish mans breath deliberately gained haste, keeping it reserved. He could not show panic or unease, he was capable of enduring whatever was thrown at him – breaking down would not be an option.

"They were, weren't they? I did quite enjoy seeing you fail…as well as seeing you beneath me." The smile was ever-growing now, and soon it would evolve into a grin of something sadistic.

No longer could he stand this already, standing with force, a hand gripping the handle of the tea cup soon thrust forwards, letting the cup loose and flying to the British man, instantly turning once it was released, making an endeavor in escape. It was unforeseen that the other would forget his tea distraction and go for the leaving man instead. A hand grabbed his shoulder, pulling back so he would twist around, his ankle pivoting his body around got caught against a jut in the rugs side, falling to the ground onto his back, head snapping back and slamming against the wooden floor.

The tan man gasped, a loss of breath and eyes fluttering quickly, trying to regain his senses. There was a loud rushing in his ears until everything came back together leaving a sharp pain in the back of his head behind.

It was all over.

"Oh dear," He murmured with a slight hint of sarcastic concern for the other. "You must try to be more careful." The man knelt down besides the Spaniard – currently trying to catch his breath. Picking up a leg, he placed it on the other side of the other and straddled down on him, a hand going to his head, suddenly gripping his hair tightly and yanking the head back, getting a small gasp in return. "You know, I've been thinking – thinking about those wonderful days, and then I found myself wanting. You want to know what I have been wanting lately. You, I have been wanting you."

"Mierda," He gasped, gritting his teeth.

"Yes, yes, it must be a nightmare for you. Poor, poor, unfortunate Antonio," He crooned, releasing his grip and running his hand across the messy brown hair. "But listen, we speak English in my house, abide to that rule." He sighed, the hand running to his cheek and patting it lightly before raising it back and smacking across his cheek brutally.

Antonio hissed, his head turning to the side an inch. "What are you planning? To treat me like how you did back then? You are going to put me through hell again?"

Putting a hand on his chest and resting it there, Arthur leaned back – seeming to be thinking. "You're Spain – where the sun never sets." A small smile returned to his lips. "I'm afraid there will be no passion in this however."

He knew where this was going – he would never grow the slightest bit fond of this either.

The Britain's hand grasped onto the wrists of the other, holding them to the floor as he hovered over him with a horrible grin peering down at him. His face preceded down to the others face and his lips soon found the others, pressing against them forcibly while continuing to hold down the now struggling arms. The other was unwilling and refusing the joining of their lips, trying to helplessly get his face away from his. Frowning, planning to use his annoying struggling as a reason for this to happening, his teeth grazed the lower portion of his lip, quickly biting down before the lip could slip from his grasp and broke through the skin, drawing out blood, the others head breaking off to the side then to make sure he was away from the lips before looking to him in plain astonishment. Blood slowly trickled down his chin, wrists still pinned down, unable to wipe it away – and the British man had to admit that he enjoyed this look the other gave to him, especially with the added blood. He licked over his lips, the grin reappearing on his face before stating, "Maybe you shouldn't be squirming around so badly. Then there wouldn't have to be any blood." Releasing one wrist, his thumb ran over the slim trail, smearing the red across his chin.

Green eyes glaring up at the other, the expression lacking in his face was clearly being shown on the inside – he had released his wrist and that arm was now free to move in whatever way he wanted it to. Not showing any movement for a second to avoid any suspicion – his hand soon curled into a fist and lashed out towards the cheek of the blond, being much too late before the other noticed to even move out of the way, his knuckles slammed into the side of his face. The other doubling off to the side, he used this chance to free himself, twisting his hips around to roll away to his back while yanking at his still trapped left arm, soon finding this was all just a grim idea. He was successful in getting to his stomach – a position in which he could easily push himself up, however, the man dressed too formally for a wrestling match such as this recovered much faster than he had expected, tightening his grip on his wrist and twisted his arm as he rolled, holding it behind his back. Gritting his teeth, his fingers desperately curled and uncurled as he tried to get a grip on the short carpet. The other straddled over him again, his grin had faded, and his fingers ran through his hair on the back of his head, gripping the dark strands tightly and pressed down – getting his face smothered by the floor for a second, managing to move so only his forehead was receiving the majority of the pressure, spitting out the blood that decided to travel back up to his mouth from the spot he was in now.

"That was a naughty thing to do." Arthur curled his fingers around his hair more, tugging sharply at some strands, threatening to tear out that portion of hair – getting a hiss from the other. "I was actually thinking, 'You know, if he behaves for just a short time, I'll let him off early.' But I can see that was a mistake. It's hilarious that I would actually think of such a thing!" Chuckling softly to himself, he bent over, nails digging into his wrist. His lips brushed lightly against his ear – Antonio shuddered from the sudden light breathing on his skin, fidgeting just slightly, that earning his forehead pushed down more against the rough carpet. "Uh-uh. Just sit still, will you?" He nipped harshly at the tip of his ear. "How about I make you sink again?" He whispered in his ear, the others eyes widening, huffing out a sigh as he shivered again from the voice being so quiet but so close to his ear.

The Spaniard would never think of submitting to this man – he never had and never planned on doing so. Yet this bastard thought he could capture him again – this wasn't the sea anymore, he couldn't just be taken hostage like back then. It pissed him off. It was a true thing that he was pushing him over the edge, he wasn't quite sure how much more of this nonsense he could take. He didn't bother in struggling around anymore; it had proved that doing something like that would just get more punishment thrown his way. Not able to do a thing – he might as well be submitting himself, and all he could do was mumble out a 'mierda' again under his breath.

Before anything could be taken much farther, the door to enter the home suddenly slammed open and loud steps came across the hardwood floor – the person obviously not bothering in being the least bit stealthy. It was rather obvious who it would be. Arthur's motive immediately changed. "Until next time, Spaniard," He mused, climbing off the male and brushing the invisible dirt off himself, straightening his clothing before standing over the other as though he had tripped.

Next time – that amused him, he would never think of accepting an invitation to discuss something of 'importance' again. The one that of course saved his ass for now was the American that soon barged in. He wasn't too fond of this newcomer either, but he gave the man his silent thanks, pushing himself off the floor and standing, frowning and wincing as he moved his arm that was held behind his back to the normal position, as well as wiping his chin off, trying to clear it of the blood.

"Alfred." His voice sounded surprised, a nice act for someone who had been acting so devilish, yet there was that lace of annoyance. "Have you still not heard of knocking? I thought you were with Ivan today?"

The other shrugged, too busy slurping at the straw jutting out from the oversized cup. It took him some time before the other even paused to speak. "I didn't know Antonio was here." He had utterly ignored the question the Britain asked, obviously thinking the questions were of no importance.

"I was just leaving actually." The Spanish man pushed his way past the two, adjusting his clothing as he went, his cheerful personality not finding the surface yet even though he was free. 'Until next time' – those words haunted his mind, would there be no escape from the seemingly bipolar man? Sighing, he ran his hands down his face, fingers slightly brushing over his forehead, frowning when he felt the imprints – it was either just a slight imprint or a burn that would stick around for who knows how long, it was annoying. However, there was home, and that's where he could find a safe place, and not only that, Lovino had a good chance of being around. The other wouldn't bother traveling to his country – he thought.


	2. Nightmare

**This one doesn't seem too well written, sorry about that. ; w; I feel like I get the characters a tad OC sometimes, so don't read if you don't like not perfect characters, pft. Anyways, hope some of you enjoy this. ^ ^**

Antonio had made it back safely, minus the deal with his marked forehead and blood plated on his bottom lip. It was made clear on his face that he was beyond relieved to have made it back, however, he couldn't help but take glances over his shoulder ever since his ride back, feeling as though eyes were watching his every move, burning a hole into his back. His relief slowly turning into the fear he had long forgotten, paranoia slowly creeping up through his nerves, his pulse increasing in beats, the worry making him jump from sudden sounds that were reminders of the ocean, or being on a ship, or the demons voice. Even his own country seemed unsafe and under control of the British.

The walk to his own house was more of a courage task than a normal walk on a wonderful sunny day with all the cheerful home people and tourists. Voices he heard on the street just barely similar to the others made his skin crawl, and look alike males made his eyes wide with fear and stop in his steps, staring at the innocent body, trying to control what he saw and make sense that it couldn't possibly be **him**. The meeting was not just a mere startle; it had some uncanny effect on the Spaniard. It had not just made him concerned, it had ultimately petrified him.

And there was nothing he could do.

Home – home should have been his safe spot, the place to relax and have his siesta, and roaming his field filled with bright red tomatoes. The field seemed to be the worst place to be though. Simply walking through the paths with his Lovino, holding his woven basket, and picking the ripe ones from the vine increased the monster visions he would have.

A tomato field, rows and rows filled with nothing but that with the small paths between the green and red plants for access meant great hiding spots. He did have a few other plants mixed in with the others, most towering over the heads of the average height person, creating shadows down on the turned dirt, moving with breezes of wind at times. Antonio saw the shadows from the corner of his eyes, hitching his breath, snapping his head to the sides many times to investigate what it was, sighing in annoyance when it was just the same type of shadow as always. However, it didn't stop at just the shadows. Looking through the small spaces between the plants, he would envision the blond male standing there, bright green eyes peering out at him, a smirk on the man's face showing nothing but malice. The tan man would stop and stare, blinking after time only to find it was nothing but a hallucination, and that Arthur was never there. Could it be possible that he was going insane? That tea could have been a trap for some drug that was just now coming into effect as well.

There was no satisfying mood for him today, and he set his basket, filled with nothing, down on the dirt, excusing himself from Lovino after giving the younger male a light kiss to his forehead, leaving him alone to pick for himself until he decided to retire inside with the Spanish.

It shouldn't be getting to him as badly as it was. Sure there were plenty of close encounters every time the two were near each other – more than likely during a world meeting, but the anxiety would always wear off after he was given a small amount of time alone. He was just tired, that must have been it, and sleep was all he needed. His feet dragged across the cool hard floor, trudging along to the decent sized room, brightly lit with the few windows, curtains strung open. His legs managed to pull him along to the windows, closing the light dimming curtains tightly, not bothering to remove or change any of the clothing he had worn for the day, finding himself growing increasingly worn. He slipped onto the soft queen sized bed with deep red colored sheets, curling under them and finding a relaxing coolness to them. It didn't take too long for sleep to overcome him.

_Orders were screamed out over the waves crashing into the wooden side of the ship, rocking it roughly through the water as gun shots went off and clashes of metal screeched. Thunder vibrated through their bodies and the floorboards, Lightning was the only source of light for them, dark clouds hovered over them as rain poured down and drenched them even more than what the sea would. Almost impossible to see and maneuver, the fight was a risky one._

_Smoke was hazing in certain areas, puddles of water caused some to slip to the ground, possibly rolling off and into the sea that would eat them whole. The ship had been infiltrated by their enemies, during a rough storm of all times, and it didn't look as though they would get their way._

_The rain soaked his attire, making it hard for him to move around swiftly, and he soon stripped the heavy coat from him, ridding of a few other unnecessary items, giving him the access he needed to dodge and attack as he pleased. With there being no reason for him to even try keeping the boat in the correct direction, he carefully made his way down onto the main deck, splashing rain up as he stepped down the stairs with a bit of force. Green eyes narrowed as he searched the crowd, splashing down onto the main area then, noting that most of his men were engaged in a fight. Few went to him, bringing their sword arms up in a way to cut him down, though he managed to kick them away, getting a few with his own sword and watching as blood mixed with water, streaming out. Gun sounds soon ceased, powder too wet and no way to keep it hidden and dry. Now it was only the clashing of swords or fists against others, and sounds of the suffering, the injured, and the dying._

_His men could handle them, they have before and there was no reason they couldn't now. But they always did come close to losing until for some reason, the other captain called it off and they retreated. The reason for that was unclear, and he would never come to know most likely. His eyes still scanned the warring cluster, stopping when he saw the figure he wanted, straining his eyes through the masking rain. The tan man hurried over, slipping many times on the wet wood, dodging through fighting circles, and away from those who tried to interfere. His sword flung out, only to be paused by the other mans sword. The captain for the opposing side eyed him, blond hair matted against his face, just as his own brown hair was attached to his face. A small smirk appeared on the blonds face, pushing the sword away as he ensued to start them in a fight for control._

_Their swords bashed against each others, giving strong cuts to see whose sword they could get out of each other's hands first. The rocking of the ship along with the rain wasn't too well of a mix, they soon found themselves slipping, grabbing onto the railings and ropes near them to stay up, pitching their swords at each other, looking for openings, and finally, the paler man had managed to get passed his blocks and trim his side._

_He winced as soon as the metal cut through, his side soon stinging as the blood leaked out and spread through his shirt. It was nothing but a small mark and he ignored the small incision, more rage going into the swinging of his blade. They advanced around the deck, looking like a sort of sword dance, ceasing when he found himself pushed against the wall that held the door to his quarter. His sword was in front of him, held there to keep the other blade from slashing a horrible wound on his neck that would kill him. The pain in his side was breaking through, teeth clenched, arms struggling to keep from the murder. He grunted when the other pushed down against him even more than he was, bodies close to being pressed against each other, their swords the only barrier from that._

_"Well, well," He cooed, the man's lips curled up a bit viciously, his face leaning in closer to the others, grinding the sword down, trying to reach and sever the nape. "Even with that wound you still manage to keep alive. I'm impressed you haven't given up. There's no reason for you to go on, you know? Your men…they have paid their price." The smile then bared his teeth._

_The trapped captain furrowed his brows, eyes taking a quick look to the side, seeing most of his men down, injured in some way, or still trying to fight for their lives. He immediately glanced back to the man, furious, and couldn't keep control of the rage then, though his side now ached, and it was a struggle to keep standing against him just blocking the blade, his rage had nowhere to go as a result of that. He exhausted himself in getting just the slightest more distance from the blade to his neck._

_"Ready to surrender?"_

_"Who do you take me as?" The Spaniard gave a small twitching grin, using effort in pushing out even more energy out to lengthen the distance again. "A weakling? After our many fights you should know by now that I would never dream about surrendering to you," He hissed, but it didn't seem to please the Britain with that answer, as he was forced back against the wall, the sword now dangerously close to cleanly cutting a way through his accessible neck._

_"What a horrible answer."_

_The battleground disappeared and no longer could he feel the rain coming down on him. It was as though everything just vanished, without a warning or explanation, it was all gone – until he felt cold, head aching, and body refusing movement, though forcing the limps to pick up and work through it. Eyes opened slowly, sucking in damp air, and hands feeling around a disgusting floor. The lighting was dim, but there was enough to see most things, he could see he was imprisoned for one. Bars were placed in front of him, blocking him in a small room, like a caged animal. His side had not been mended to, the wound still opened, and he could be certain there would now be an infection, as looking around him he was certain rats roamed the area he was now in, and the floors were covered with who knows what and he had just been laying there._

_He was unsure of how he had gotten there, but the obvious answer was there. He had been defeated and taken as a prisoner from that result. What they would do with him was uncertain. The feeling of rather being dead was dreading over him, though his weapons were stolen from him and he was left with nothing but his clothes, still wet and clinging to his body. As he slowly stood, a shadowed figure moved forwards then, glaring as soon as he spotted the movement and moved himself to the bars, hands clutching the poles tightly, his knuckles forming into a color of white. His forehead rested against the blockade while watching the figure move more into the light; however he knew who it was from the beginning._

_"What do you want from me?" He commanded the question, demanding to know the answer. "If you plan to kill me then do so already, I don't fear the death to come."_

_The green garbed man stood closely to the prison, in front of where the others body was, smiling lightly and shaking his head with amusement. "Oh Antonio, don't you see?" His hand reached forwards, slipping between the openings between bars and was placed on the tan cheek, fingers stroking softly against the skin. "You're mine now."_

Antonio startled awake, sitting up quickly, a hand going up to hold his head, finding it covered with sweat. The nightmare had to be the end of it, the end of all the paranoia he had been feeling from the day before. He calmed his fast paced breathing, sighing and glancing around, finding it to be night time, unsure of what hour it was. Stretching his legs out to the edge of the bed, he scoot out, feeling as though he really had been dancing around with a sword and was in need of something to help calm him down a bit more. His floors creaked slightly as he stood, and he moved slowly, trying to keep quiet, unsure if Lovino had stayed for the night or not, and if he did, he wouldn't want to wake him.

Moving through the hallway, he edged himself towards the kitchen, moving through the opening frame, and shuffled across the floor to his sink. He found a glass and filled it with water, leaning against the edge of the counter. The lights had suddenly flashed on then, almost dropping his glass from his eyes being stunned, too used to the dark. He figured Lovino had stayed the night then, only he had woke him up and he came for something from the kitchen as well. It wasn't until he heard the voice that he became tense, his body growing stiff, not daring to turn around. The bastard, he would never get a break, not even in his sleep he would, not until whatever was needed to be done was settled.

"Hello Antonio." He paused as though he was taking a drink from his tea. "You really ought to learn to lock your doors. It isn't safe. Anyone…can just walk in."

It was as though grin's had a sound to them, because the Spaniard was convinced that the man behind him had the devils smile.


	3. Revelations

**I feel like this chapter is kinda like, 'wtf' xD;; But anyways, this took me some time to think up of with what would happen. But hope some people enjoy nonetheless. c:**

* * *

Almost instantly he reached for the wooden knife holder, grasping for one of the many black handled cooking utensils, only finding that none of the six were there. Green eyes shifted quickly to the counter, hand sliding down the side of the holder, brows furrowing from the lack of knives occupying the slits. Antonio wouldn't bother looking through the drawers, more than likely that blond man had already swept the more dangerous of things away and into his hands or in some secret hiding spot he found. He ground his teeth together and slowly moved his gaze to the other now standing mere inches from him.

The blond tsk'd, shaking his head from side to side in an exaggerated slow style, his lips slightly curled up in a smile. A pale hand reached to the side and was placed on the edge of the counter next to the Spanish mans side. "Reaching for something dangerous like that? Did you actually plan to attempt to kill me?"

"Or just seriously injure…" The tanner man grumbled, eyes narrowing and glancing at the hand by him suspiciously for just a second, otherwise keeping his eyes plastered on the devilish face. He wouldn't have dared to kill him, who knows how many complications would arise from that, even injuring him would bring some issues towards the two countries. It would be for defense of course, but even so, he didn't want a war coming from simple relation problems between the two.

"I did you a liberty in hiding them for you. Wouldn't want that child of yours getting a hold of them either, now, would you?" The smile turned into more of a smug smirk, his tongue peeked out from his lips just barely, licking over his upper lip. That motion made the Spaniard grimace, shoving his hand away and moved quickly to the side to avoid any touching.

He wasn't too happy with the Britain man calling Lovino a child, if anything the bastard was acting more like a child than what a real child would act. Not sure of where all the defensive items were currently placed, he resulted in walking around the kitchen, keeping his eyes on the other and watching his movements. He had nowhere to really run to, he couldn't hide in his house, and running amuck outside wouldn't do him any good either. The English man had done well in trapping him this time, but he took absolutely no pride in feeling trapped within his own home where he should be safe rather than worrying about people intruding in and scheming up who knows what. He shuffled along the room, moving slowly, looking for an opening to possibly move faster than him into a room and locking the door to keep him out, though he was unsure if he would attempt in breaking down the door or moving outside and trying the window for access in. It was all going to hell right now.

The others green eyes were filled with amuse, watching him as well, hands going together and held in front of his legs, acting as though this called for some nice act posture. "I came all this way just to see you. Can't you do your job and make a guest feel welcome? Make me some tea or offer me a snack of a place to sit and…relax."

"I don't think relaxing is what you had in mind." Antonio scoffed, running his hand along the island counter as he moved along slowly, tapping his fingers against it lightly. "You are an unwelcome guest. I have no reason to make you anything. Now why don't you leave?"

"Leave? Why would I ever do that?" Arthur made a face as though he was just insulted horribly, taking tiny steps to lessen the distance between them, his hand making it onto the island as well, on the opposite side from the other.

He frowned again; none of this would end too well. Obviously talking wasn't an effective way to rid of him and he would have to attempt an escape, even as futile as it may be. He paused in walking along; tapping his fingers against the tops material a bit more forceful, eying the intruder for just a bit longer before his tapping ceased abruptly, and he earned a somewhat perplexed look from other. It turned silent and things stood still. Then Antonio made his move, pushing off from the counter and took off in a sprint towards a room, however, the blond must have guessed what he was about to do, for his waist suddenly had an arm around it and he was yanked back, stumbling to the ground with the other on top of him. The force from his falling to the floor, and the pressure of the body on him had knocked the wind out of him, then gasping for air and wincing from the pain of it. It seemed like it was time again to get attacked once again, but he had a feeling the American wouldn't be anywhere near his place to wander in and put this harassment off for another set time.

A hand gripped his brown hair sharply, pressing his head down against the cold floor. Lips appeared close to his ear, he could tell from the faint chill of breath. "Ready to finish off what we had started back at my home?" He mused out, teeth coming down on the tip of his ear, biting down sharply. "I am quite ready to finish it. Though not too fast, I want my time to enjoy this precious time with you. Especially since no one will be interrupting us this time, I'm sure of it." The Britain shifted his position on top of the other, legs straddling the lower back of Antonio, his hand unleashing his hair and ran it slowly along his spine, slightly tugging at the fabric blocking him from the tan flesh underneath.

As soon as his hair was free, his head snapped up and his hands struggled against the floor, trying to push himself up at least enough to twist and roll onto the intruder to get him off. It was really to no prevail. Hands went to his shoulders and shoved him back against the hard ground, grunting in exasperation.

"Stop your insolent struggling. Keep still and accept what will happen. You can't do a thing to stop it, after all, and no one else will either." Arthur paused to give it some thought. "In other words for your simple little mind – give up."

"Give up?" The Spaniard asked it as though it was the most impossible thing in the world to do. As though he had never once thought about giving up. "Like hell will I give up! That never even crossed my mind; I will never just give into you." He gritted his teeth as he felt nails press down into his skin through his shirt, even as short they were, they still managed to give a certain pressure that proved annoying and rather painful. "I have never given up and I never will."

The blond scoffed, loosening his grip on his shoulders and rubbed over the marks he was sure he had left, as though he was trying to now comfort him. "My dear Antonio…everyone has given up at least once." A grin ran across his face, his hands running down to the ending of his shirt, which had already lifted slightly up his back from his previous struggling and the beginning of all the roughhousing around. His paler fingers curled around the thin material then pushed it slowly up the length of his back, revealing his skin then, seeing it was something that had pleased the man. He leaned down, holding the shirt at his shoulders to help in keeping him down, and then pressed his lips against the newly bared skin, though; the sudden new feel from the light kissing had caused the other to unexpectedly jerk, giving the top a surprise, as well as giving him a slight bloody lip from biting himself. Displeased with the sudden movement, he sat back, releasing one shoulder to wipe at the small trickle running down his chin. He looked at the faint red on smeared out of the back of his hand and frowned. He shouldn't be the one bleeding, nor should he have ever gotten something that caused blood, even with how small a wound it may be. His green eyes peered down at the skin with disdain.

From the sudden silence and the moment that Arthur had stopped, Antonio knew something went wrong for him. He wasn't entirely sure what his sudden movement had caused, but he could tell already that it had utterly pissed the other off. He felt a slight chill run through him, and no more movement was produced from him then, lying still and in fear on the still cold ground, seeming as though it couldn't retain any heat well at the moment. Of course he had no idea what was in store for him then, but it had altered plans at least a little. He huffed out a sigh, still feeling the pressure on his stomach, finding it hard to breathe normally, his forehead resting against the flooring.

It took quite some time for the other to finally speak and show signs of movement again, but when he did, it was obvious there was slight hate and plenty of annoyance in his voice. "Have you forgotten the meaning of 'give up'? Do you need to relearn it like an idiot puppy learning rules for the first time?" The man questioned, a cold stare still aimed at his bare back, tsk'ing then. "No matter though, it was just one little mistake, one simple flaw. It can be fixed." His lips soon went back pressed against him again, though his mouth shifted open and his teeth sunk into the skin, not just a simple little bite that left indented marks, pressing them in so much that they tore through the skin and blood welled through the incisions, pulling back once he felt that the other had winced enough for that one bite. "Now will your listening skills improve or do I need to leave more motivations to get you to understand that this isn't just a simple game?"

Antonio grinned anxiously, turning his head so his cheek rested against the floor and his eyes shifted to the side, trying his best to get a side view of the man. "I think you have gone insane… Really, you must be feeling lonely ever since he left you, and even now he has someone else that isn't you too. Are you mad or intensely jealous of me that Lovi still sticks around me that you have to scheme of whatever plans and come to my own home and do these unnecessary things just to seemingly hurt me?" He hissed out, getting the other to raise an eyebrow at his comment; he did indeed look annoyed as well, obviously striking into some issues of the other.

The annoyed expression soon relaxed into a small smile that didn't look at all crazed like how he was acting at the moment. "Why would I be jealous of something like that?" Arthur sighed, moving his finger over the bite wound, feeling the other slightly wince from it. "Oh my…I don't even recall telling you of something. No wonder you're so reluctant and unwilling to go along with this! I feel rather bad now…" He trailed off, letting go of any grip he had on him and moved off and away from the other, standing next to the figure on the ground.

If he could say he had no suspicions, it would obviously be a lie, he had plenty of them, and even more suspicions than he had originally, not to mention adding more confusion into that factor. The Spaniard was free to move now however, and he took that freedom and stood, readjusting his shirt and glancing at the other cautiously, even though the Britain man seemed to be respectful of his personal space then and had moved away a decent amount.

"I know you must be confused, and I am surprised by myself that I failed to mention why I even go through this much trouble to even talk to you." Arthur paused, pulling out a chair from the table and sat down, crossing his legs and leaning back comfortably as though he was a welcomed guest and was wanted there. "Well you see, for quite some time, there was some thinking, and some questioning over certain things. I've found myself thinking of the past, out on the sea, and then my thoughts drifted off to thinking of you, rather than thinking of anything else, it went to you. I was as confused as you are now. Though, the more thinking I got, the more sense it made to me, and I finally came up with an answer. It was such a simple answer I felt incredibly stupid that I had not thought of it before or knew right the instant that all of it had come up. Now I feel terrible that I just intruded on you here, doing all those things, especially without explaining my side for doing it all." His green eyes shifted to the others. "You see, what I had come up with, is that I had found feelings."

Antonio's eyes narrowed, furrowing his brows and placed his hand on the counter, leaning against it, not trusting to take a seat near him. "Well…you finally discovered human emotions. Good for you."

He smirked and shook his head, finding that comment interesting to the least. "No, no, what I mean was that I found that I had feelings for you."

"I think that's clear. So in other words you found more intense hate and annoyance towards me?"

"In other words, Antonio, I love you."


	4. Chapter 4

**This chapter came sooner than I thought it would. o 3o;; Well, enjoy...maybe. xD Also couldn't think of a chapter name yet...so...chapter 4 it is!  
**

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The initial reaction was a state of confusion, as would any normal persons to that would be. However, the tan male strode over, fingers curling into his palms and gripping down into a tight fist. The bastard. What did he expect to happen after he said something like that? That he'd just burst into happy tears and jump into his open arms and accept everything has had gone down and forgive and forget? Like hell. That man should know better.

With his lips curling up into a small grin, he let the fist go smacking his knuckles into the un-expecting cheek of Arthur. He watched with, he had to admit, quite a lot of enjoyment, as the man's head snapped to the side, the chair moving out from under him and tumbling to the side, the blond falling to the ground with a loud thump. Green eyes looked up to him, a pale hand cradling his cheek which would soon swell and grow ugly colors.

"Don't look so surprised," Antonio spat out, waving his hand out by his side to crack and get the cramps out from his fingers, the punch a little too forceful and took a toll on his own hand. "Did you seriously expect me to just forgive you? Seriously think I would believe you? Seriously think I would even give a second of my time to think of what you just said?" His voice rose as he spoke on, stepping closer to the one still on the ground, hovering over the Britain with an appearance that he'd take his foot and crush him. "You've become twisted."

Arthur frowned, jaw clenching down even though it was hell for him to do so at the moment, and probably for many more days. He wasn't sure what he expected to happen from blurting that out. It did seem suspicious - to just now say it rather than not taking the meeting they had the couple days ago to his advantage and saying it then. Being forceful appeared to be the better answer back then. Now it truly had worsened things. What could he say?

The Spaniard shook his head, running his fingers through his messy brown hair and took a couple steps back, holding his uninjured hand behind him, pointing his finger in the direction of the door. "Get the fuck out of my house. Out of my country. And once you leave, don't look back, not at any time. Don't ever think of wandering back here either. If I see your face back here, I'll throw you in some prison, hell, I think I might just kill you!"

Obviously furious, and he had the right to be, Arthur took his threats to the heart, and right away he took a stand to get out of that place. He'd ruin things even more if he attempted to stick around and try to fix things, even trying to explain his - he agreed it seemed a bit twisted - side. He swallowed whatever small pride he had left, swallowing air, and hurried his way out. There would be nothing he could do to fix this.

Once he heard the door click close ever so softly, he finally let out a gush of air, apparently having held his breath. It was finally done, wasn't it? He'd dealt with that bastard for long enough, and now, no more. He could go out without that paranoia that the monster would be around the corner, he could go out to any cafe with Lovino without having to explain injuries after a run in with him, and he could actually relax now. Do anything. Though, that love thing had given him an uneasy feeling. Was that male actually serious or was it a way to get him to drop his guard in shock to get his way with him for certain? He knew nothing of the antic.

Dark green eyes searched around the floors and counters and the bedroom for the cellphone, forgetting it's last place. It was finally found under the mass of covers on his bed, turning it on and waited the minute it took, then went to the contacts without searching too much. He was there at the top - Alfred. Their relationship wasn't...wonderful, but it worked well enough. A finger hesitated, hovering over the call button, but soon found it's way down, watching the screen turn to the calling sign. Putting it to his ear lightly, he waited for an answer, expecting a voicemail.

"Hello?"

The voiced somewhat out of breath.

"Alfred?" Antonio questioned, wondering if it was really him. He couldn't possibly be working out, could he?

"Yeah. Do you need something, man?" There was a small chuckle and a hushed whisper then.

Antonio's face turned a little perplexed, knowing the American wouldn't see it though, turning the face into words. "Did I call at the wrong time?"

It was a couple minutes before he spoke again. "Oh, no, sorry- Ivan, stop! I'm on the phone." The voice didn't sound demanding but more in a laughing sound. "Just go ahead and talk, I'm listening."

That was right, Arthur had given a hint that Alfred was with Ivan during the interruption in their first run in. The distraction made better sense now.

Eyes rolled and the tanned male had a feeling he wouldn't be listening unless he had something interesting to say. "Arthur made a surprise visit. And you want to know what he said to me?"

"Try my scones? You didn't did you? Oh god, if you did, get to a hospital, dude!"

"No, not that." He sighed, running his hand down his face as he heard the dirty blond run through instructions to save his life from eating the nasty things. "No, no! Listen." He paused until he was sure there would be no more, 'gag it up' hints. "There was nothing with scones so settle down. The visit was...unpleasant. Then he went and said, more like dared to say, that he, well, loved me..."

There was no answer on the other line, not even chuckles from, what Antonio guessed, Ivan's actions. Was he on speaker?

When there was no answer, he had a feeling that he had hung up. "Alfred." Instead of a question, it was more of a demanding tone.

"Yeah, yeah. Sorry. Just thinking."

That American thought?

Alfred continued on though, "He said that, huh? He has seemed pretty in the dumps, depressed even. But then he got this creepy determined look whenever I stuck around him long enough, and man was it creepy. Anyways though...I have a feeling he was telling the truth. Even with the shitty confession."

"The truth?" The Spaniard sounded like he could laugh it off then and hang up and turn the other way, never glancing back to this time. "That loco bastard broke into my house and threw me to the ground again before even telling me that!" A frown came upon his face. "And you believe he says the truth?"

"I'm just saying what I think, but hey, if you don't want my help anymore, whatever. Give him a chance or don't. Not my damn business."

He hung up then. Leaving a beeping line on his side and Antonio stood there, staring straight ahead, out the window, dropping his phone down after a lengthy amount of time. It took him even longer to get to the bathroom, finally washing up.

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The week ahead was calm and the best week he has had - working in his tomato field, wandering the streets and socializing, and Lovino even came back, accompanying him to the cafes and back to his, staying nights for the majority of the week. They didn't do much aside from dancing at times and strolling out at night, gazing at the stars when they came out. Of course, kisses were shared, and a little more, but nothing too far. As much as he refused to show it, he could see that his little love was pleased with him acting back to his normal cheerful ways. It brought things back to normal.

It wasn't until the following week that he received a letter in the mail. A letter with neat writing. A letter that was obvious in style from who it was from without reading the name. Once the envelope was opened and the single sheet of pretty paper came out, the words flowed - a rather elaborate apology and a plead for him to venture back to his house, promising a simple meeting this time, a meeting to explain things.

Alfred's last words actually were helpful. 'Give him a chance or don't'. There was a chance to mend a little, and at most becoming friends which was indeed better than how things were now, but the friends status would take plenty of time to reach. Giving him a chance or not was just one issue, the other being unfortunately too horribly curious. He wouldn't break 'promises' he had given him the last time he saw him – he'd be going to his country and not the other way around.

But curiosity killed the cat.


	5. Fogged Thoughts

**These chapters are coming faster than I thought they would. Anyways, Happy New Years everyone that happens to see and read this. c:**

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What day to go was unclear, so he waited a few days after receiving the letter, having leaving a message after he called the other and getting no message, that he would be leaving for his place, and should arrive there shortly. He really didn't want to travel all the way back there just to be harassed again, however, even just the letter, it seemed promising that nothing bad would happen. There was no promise though. Antonio would be suspicious and his guard would be completely up when he would arrive. Not to mention that his heart would be pounding, hell, it was doing that already. Clutching his shirt tightly above his heart, he grabbed the small bag he packed in case the lag would be too much and he'd need to stay one day, then wandered out, letting out a sigh and glancing up to the sky. That clear blue sky, this didn't want to be his last time to see it.

He made it to the airport just fine. Getting onto the plane, just showing the ticket proved harsh already. Though, after enough time, he made it on, finding his seat after shoving his luggage away, sitting down stiffly, and closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the chair. Before he knew it, he had fallen asleep and the sound of departing to the ground woke him with a bit of a startle, almost forgetting what was going on, where he was, and what he was doing. It took some time to remind himself what was happening, soon settling down and slouching back against the seat, glancing out the window, watching the buildings and the runway get closer and closer, waiting until they finally touched down and came to a halt.

The screech of the tires annoyed him, his hands going to his ears and resting when it stopped and got up when he could, taking his bag out and shuffled out, pelted by cold drops of rain, frowning and held his bag in front of his face as a shield. He had traded his warm weather and blue sky for this place filled with grey clouds, making it look miserable, and rain dropping wasn't the pleasant hot rain, it was cold, feeling like shards of glass against his skin. Just what was needed, a miserable day to meet his ultimate doom. With a sigh, his legs started moving, splashes crashing while each foot hit the cement. His clothing was getting soaked and even with the bag above his head, there wasn't any shield. His pace was getting faster, more eager to get the house, shivering more and more with each step. Why he didn't call for a taxi was unknown to him. The taxi would have made him arrive quicker, but, that's what he didn't want back then, now, it wouldn't be too bad.

People thinned out on the streets, wandering into pubs or having retrieved to their cars and driving home. The rain was steadily increasing, pouring down harder, vision fading away, and slipping becoming more possible. Damn, he should have called for a taxi, though he had finally arrived to the double story house, looking up at it from the sidewalk before wandering to the door, slowly curling his fist and bringing it up to the door, rapping softly, almost smacking his fist against the face that appeared in front him from how quickly it opened, as though the other was standing and waiting impatiently for him. Scanning over his face, the punch did indeed leave a mark, how bad was unknown, the darkness was fading to the nasty yellow and greens, blacks and purples still visible though.

"Arthur..." He mumbled, nodding his head slightly in a greet, forgetting his shivering until he heard his teeth shattering after speaking. He must seem pathetic soaked to the bone, standing out the door and looking horribly unfortunate.

"You're soaked! Quick, come in and I'll get you a towel." Arthur turned quickly, shuffling off down the hallway and where the other guessed, to the bathroom, soon returning with the towel, handing it over to the Spaniard who had taken uneasy steps into the house, standing close to the doorway. The door was closed after he received the towel.

Bringing the dry cloth to his hair, he wrung it out the best he could, getting rid of the stored water then. He glanced to the blond, looking away shortly though, watching the ground as water pooled around. "I need...to change, so..." Trailing off awkwardly, the other nodded and urged his towards the bathroom, almost pushing him in and closing the door as soon as he could. Antonio was a bit confused but changed his clothing nonetheless. He stood there, looking in the mirror, wasting time until he had to get out.

Once he got the urge to leave, he found the Britain sitting in his chair, watching rain smack against the window, snapping his head go the side when the creak in the floorboards got his attention. "Please sit, and I can explain things...to the best I can." The pale hand motioned to a chair across from him with a table between them.

He nodded, brown hair still matted against his face. Moving to the chair, he sat down, getting as comfortable as he could, but sat on the edge of the cushion, expecting a need for a quick getaway. His hands placed on the armrest, fingers curling into the fabric, acting as though he wanted to rip through it. The other must have noticed, for he fidgeted awkwardly, clearing his throat softly.

"I do love you. I know I didn't show it in the best of ways either. I'm not too sure why I acted the way I did though. And I am sorry, I truly am." He paused, gaze shifting back to the window as rain continued to smack against the glass. "Maybe I was afraid to say it. Maybe I thought I needed to do drastic things to get you to listen to me. And then I thought...even though I did those horrible things...you'd come to feel the same way as I feel towards you." He shook his head, sighing, leaning back against the chair. "I never meant to actually hurt you in any way. I just...I'm not even sure."

Antonio thought he could see tears well in the corners of his brighter green eyes. He started to relax a bit then, seeing this was just a meeting to speak, and nothing bad would come to him. He questioned the others motives towards certain things though, but maybe he didn't know any other way? It was possible, but a bit unbelievable.

"I should have just come out and said it. Then maybe things would be different now." His gaze moving back to the tan skinned man. "Would things be different? Could we actually be in a normal relationship?" He leaned forwards, an anxious look appeared on his expression, and hope mixed in.

Now it was time to shatter that heart of his. "No." The answer was flat and it just came out, no second thought was given. "There is no way. I have my Lovi. As annoying it can be with him and his personality sometimes, I wouldn't trade him for anyone else."

"Could you not even give me a chance? At least to work things out? I..." Arthur's voice wavered, nothing else coming out then. "You must be tired. Why don't you stay in the guest room tonight? I promise nothing will happen. I will stay in my own room. I won't even think of coming near that door."

Sighing, he gave a small nod. "That would be nice. Thank you." He had his wonders though, on if that promise would be kept. He had a feeling it would though.

The Britain stood, beckoning the other to follow and he did. He lead the Spaniard to the guest room, not even looking back at him. "If you need anything - food, water, more blankets, anything, just ask me. Or help yourself in the kitchen. I won't mind." He opened the guests room, stepping out of the way.

Antonio entered, looking around and turning around. "Thanks again." The other just nodded, closed the door, and hurried off, leaving him to be alone. He dropped the bag to the floor by the bed, walking to the window and looking out, rain still falling. Sighing once again, he moved to the bed and sat, soon laying down to his side, eyes wide awake, even with how tired he was. Thoughts keeping him awake.

Give him a shot. Alfred's last words rang in his head again. Or don't give him a shot. Arthur was more willing to say what he truly felt, Lovino, well, not so much. He thought how nice of a change it would be to have Lovino actually admit he loved him and say it to his face without being a grump and mumbling insults and disagreements. He stopped himself, rolling to his back, and looking to the ceiling.

Wait. Was he actually thinking of dumping Lovino to give Arthur a shot?


End file.
